


Of 'It's and Tumbling Over the Edge

by paintedbutton



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 5 Times, Cas being a cockblock, M/M, Oblivious Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-05
Updated: 2013-03-05
Packaged: 2017-12-04 09:59:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paintedbutton/pseuds/paintedbutton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four times Dean didn't get it and the one time it finally hits him.<br/>Or the one where Castiel doesn't like random strangers hitting on Dean but never actually says anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of 'It's and Tumbling Over the Edge

The first few times it happens Dean doesn’t even know there is an ‘it’ happening.

 

It’s just him and Cas in some dive bar not too far from their motel and a few drinks turned into Dean contemplating teaching Cas how to play pool. And there’s this guy looking at him when suddenly his eyes widen and then he’s not looking anymore. When Dean turns around Cas is staring right back. Now, he’s used to the staring – really, when Cas doesn’t make eye contact he knows something is seriously wrong – so he just grins and shrugs it off. They don’t get very far with the pool game that night before they get run out because Cas is too honest to cheat.

 

 

The second time he’s alone and drinking in celebration of his not so little brother taking up his law degree again (it called for a celebration, somebody else around or not). He’s sitting at the bar and nursing his second beer when the seat next to him is suddenly occupied by a lanky dude. Now, he’s not too bad looking, all tall, dark and handsome, but he’s also at least half a decade younger than Dean and … well, it’s been a while since he’s really been looking for casual sex. He takes the drink offered all the same, smiles and introduces himself. Lanky guy turns out to be not all that uninteresting until he suddenly falters mid-sentence.

“Hello, Dean.” Ah well, that explains that. Dean smiles at Castiel and he’s not even turned back around completely when the guy’s excusing himself mumbling how he “didn’t know”. Dean honestly isn’t too irritated when Cas takes the now empty seat instead and snatches Dean’s drink away with a smile in his eyes.

 

 

The third time it happens he starts getting a little suspicious. Mostly because he was the one doing the approaching this time. The guy is a little shorter than Dean, slightly ragged and dark haired (no, Dean Winchester does _not_ have a type, fuck off) and he takes being offered a drink very graciously. He feels kind of bad getting back into this routine, mostly doesn’t even want to anymore, but having a screaming match with Cas put him in the mood where he seriously needs to blow off some steam. And what better way to do that than fuck it out of his system? So he laughs and jokes and talks about classic cars and classic rock and just when he’s pretty sure he’s got this one in the bag the guy suddenly bites his lip and remembers that he has a really urgent meeting in the morning. He’s gone before Dean can even get a word in edgewise. And that’s when he sees Cas, who is pensively standing at the other side of the room looking at him. The first thing he says when Dean motions him over is “I’m sorry”.

“Forget about it. You can get me another beer to make up for it.” The nagging sensation in the back of Dean’s mind that this isn’t quite normal gets lost in Castiel’s grateful smile and the warmth of his hand on his shoulder.

 

 

The fourth time it’s actually a woman that comes onto him and they’re on a job. She’s a witness and she’s very interested in the harsh life an FBI Agent must lead. She also has pouty lips and a great appreciation of Dean’s car. Dean actually catches Castiel glowering at her until she falters in her flirtations but he puts it up to that fact that he wants to get some useful information out of her instead of meaningless bits and pieces in between her attention to Dean.

 

 

And then he finally gets it. He finds that he apparently has a destined meeting with a guy in a bar somewhere in nowhere, Illinois, and while he’s really not looking for anything beyond a few drinks and a bit of nice company Dean doesn’t discourage him either. That is until the guy starts looking confused, then miffed and when Dean follows his gaze it’s linked firmly with Castiel’s. And, Jesus, Castiel looks ready to put the fear of God in him.

“You could’ve just told me you were taken,” the guy mumbles into his beer.

“I, no –“ Dean breaks off mid-sentence because suddenly it hits him in a way it hasn’t all those times before, that he always just has to turn around to see Cas right there. “Yeah, you’re right, sorry,” he says instead and offers an apologetic smile when he stands up and empties the last dregs of his beer. He’s across the room in a few steps, has caught Castiel by the sleeve of his trench coat and hauled him out into the cold and into a nearby alley in a few more. By the time they’re standing across from each other Castiel has lost the glower, but if he tries Dean can spot a hint of smug satisfaction in his eyes. He’s really been fucking blind, hasn’t he?

“Anything you wanna explain to me?” he offers simply and watches as Castiel’s eyes dart to the wall behind him.

“I wouldn’t know what –”

“Don’t bullshit me, Cas. I’m talking about the cockblocking thing.” And suddenly he’s hit with the full force of Cas’ glower and it’s not so hard to guess why all those people backed off without a fight.

“Is that what you want?!” Castiel growls and it shouldn’t be hot but Dean’s given up on keeping his reactions to him in check quite some time ago. “Something so meaningless? I thought you’d grown past that now.”

“Hey, no, I mean yes, yeah, sure. Doesn’t explain you scaring the holy crap out of everybody hitting on me.” Castiel’s gaze hits the floor. So does the volume of his voice, so low that Dean can barely understand his next words.

“They don’t have any right …”

“To what? To me? I don’t see any name tattooed onto my ass, buddy.” Castiel looks up and closes the gap between them in one swift motion that presses Dean against the wall. And if that gesture didn’t drive the point across the hand that comes up to possessively grasp Dean’s shoulder does the trick. Apparently even without any visible mark _something_ inside Dean remembers where exactly he was gripped tight if the zing that suddenly goes through him is anything to go by.

“Mine,” Castiel whispers against his lips and Dean has to fight the urge to chuckle, or punch the air in victory, something – anything – that shows his satisfaction with finally tumbling over the edge they’ve been balancing on for too long. Instead he just opts for a small smile.

“That’s a new one.” And he’s unconsciously matching the register of Cas’ voice, low and intimate and just for them to hear.

“I … I didn’t mean …” Cas is drawing away, reluctantly enough for Dean to catch him easily and draw him back in, kiss whatever he didn’t mean right out of his mouth. It seems to be working judging from the way Castiel is on him in seconds, kissing back openly and deeply and without reservations. There might be a fuse or ten blowing in Dean’s brain, which is really a bit embarrassing considering he’s not twelve, but if so he’ll blame whatever freaking connection Castiel’s hand – still firmly on the invisible mark – built up. He’ll also blame hitting his head on the brick wall behind him on that. Chuckling Dean shakes his head before resting it against Castiel’s temple easily.

“Yours,” he agrees finally. The word, murmured low into Castiel’s ear is enough to send a shiver through him, much to Dean’s satisfaction. “As long as this is a two-way street.” Castiel draws away, nods, his eyes dark and full of meaning that not so long ago would’ve choked Dean with fear.

“Of course.”

“How about you get us out of here then? Believe it or not, hickeys are way better at conveying the whole ‘hands off, he’s mine’ thing.” The look and growl he gets in response are absolutely feral, and _damn_ if not being able to sit properly tomorrow won’t be worth every damn second.

 


End file.
